


nothing but a one-man cult

by midzyzen



Category: X1 (Korea Band)
Genre: Angst, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, One-Sided Attraction, Seungyoun centric, Snapshots, Unrequited Love, bro this is just sad we vibing, friends to friends bcoz we love suffering babey, this is so funny to me, vent fic ig
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-24 16:44:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21341440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midzyzen/pseuds/midzyzen
Summary: The best part about Wooseok is losing.
Relationships: Cho Seungyeon | Seungyoun/Kim Wooseok | Wooshin
Comments: 11
Kudos: 43





	nothing but a one-man cult

**Author's Note:**

> girl uh that's just sad idk what to say like. this is genuinely a 4am rant and i think serve but also not really. anyways this is a little messy lol went from happy coherent somewhat structured fics to this in. one day. fine ig.
> 
> also they vape at some point so warning (?) for that ig
> 
> title from bad religion by frank ocean

Seungyoun only notices that he has a soft spot for Wooseok when his friends point it out. 

It shouldn’t be as big of a discovery as it feels, because once he gives it a second of though, it’s more than obvious. The kind of thing that is in character, commonplace, something anyone can notice from a mile away. And yet, his initial reaction is denial, which maybe comes off as a little too defensive.

“I don’t mean it in a _bad_ way,” Byungchan retracts quickly, awkwardly, “it’s just that, I don’t know, you seem to notice him more. Or favour him, not in, like, serious cases.”

“I genuinely have no idea what you mean,” Seungyoun tries to explain with a calmer voice, less emotionally laden. 

“It’s, uh, the vibe,” Byungchan tells him, “it’s hard to pinpoint anything specific. It’s always the stupidest things, I guess, like the little ones no one notices. Like, he’s always the go-to person you’ll sit with in class. You’ll always stand next to him when we’re together. You’ll sit next to him in the cinema, that kind of thing. You gravitate towards him.”

“Maybe it’s _him_ that gravitates to _me_,” Seungyoun counters, his voice strained again. 

“I mean, it could be,” Byungchan reassures him and it somehow feels condescending, “but you do it, too. Or you speak of him really fondly. The way you look at him—”

“The way I look at him what?”

“…nothing,” Byungchan says after a second, “I’m sorry. I think I overstepped my boundaries a little.”

He sounds sorry, like there’s a reason for him to pity Seungyoun. 

Maybe there is — because they haven’t been friends for very long and yet, Seungyoun isa little obsessed with him. It takes Wooseok a month to have him wrapped around his finger and Seungyoun knows that he seeks out Wooseok more often than not, wants to be closer to him, is intrigued by anything he has to offer. But he’s been subconsciously trying to protect himself from coming to terms with the romantic undertones of his infatuation, prefers to leave in unsaid. 

That is, until Byungchan says it out loud and it becomes physical. Seungyoun’s head keeps spinning on the way back home and he almost misses his bus stop. 

*

Seungyoun is practicing his penalty kicks when Wooseok joins him. It’s post-practice already and Seungyoun thought he was the only one to stick around. Wooseok’s voice echoing across the empty pitch startles him. 

“I’ll beat you,” Wooseok challenges.

“I thought you left,” Seungyoun picks up the ball from the goal. 

“Well, I’m here,” Wooseok walks up to him with a teasing smile. It’s getting dark already, “so, shootout?”

“Sure,” Seungyoun hands him the ball. “Go first.”

Wooseok shoots neatly to the side, but for strategic reasons, Seungyoun assumes, he hesitates before making the kick. It doesn’t confuse him like Wooseok intended it to, so he quickly dives to catch it. 

“Nice,” Wooseok says with an obviously bitter smile. It’s endearing how supportive he’s trying to be despite his competitive nature. 

Seungyoun switches places with him, watching Wooseok crouch in the goal. He sets the ball on the penalty spot, meeting Wooseok’s determined eyes. He doesn’t look away when he jogs up and kicks as hard as he can, using his speed to send the ball as far as he can. He aims centre, a little to the right, but Wooseok dives left. 

“Fuck!” Seungyoun hears him mumble. A frustrated Wooseok is a funny sight, Seungyoun loves to rile him up for the sake of seeing him lose composure. 

“You know,” Seungyoun tells him before he goes back to the goal, “that thing you do with the mind-play or whatever you’re trying to achieve — it only distracts you. Penalties work best if you just pound the ball as hard and fast as possible, then it’s a guessing game for the goalie, because not even the best reflex can’t save you from a good shot.”

“You talk a lot,” Wooseok says. It’s his frustrated self’s way of thanking Seungyoun for the advice.

“You hesitate a lot. Just kick and I swear I’ll miss it,” Seungyoun urges him.

“You’ll let it pass just to prove me a point.”

“And lose to you at a shootout? I have a rep, Seok,” Seungyoun reminds him, “now, go.”

This time, Wooseok shoots directly to the side, just like Seungyoun told him. No hesitation, no games — he only adds a bit of a spin to his kick for the flavour, which Seungyoun appreciates. He makes the shot without a problem and whoops victoriously, pumping his fist in the air. 

“Told you,” Seungyoun says.

“I made the kick, not you,” Wooseok replies, but it’s playful rather than defensive. He passes Seungyoun the ball as they walk past each other to switch places. 

“I know,” Seungyoun looks down to his lips for a second, which is a mistake. They’re close for alingering second, painfully so, and Seungyoun wishes he could put his arms on Wooseok’s sides to still him and kiss him. “Be careful this time.”

“Any more helpful tips?” Wooseok asks and Seungyoun knows he has no right to be this condescending but he relishes it nonetheless, because it’s a good look on him.

“We’ll see,” he kicks the ball and misses.

Wooseok ends up winning by one point and makes a fuss out of it, just like Seungyoun knew he would. It’s funny to him how he can’t bring himself to mind, because he’s competitive until Wooseok is involved. He loves to fight with him, compete over the silliest things, but the best part about it is losing.

The best part about Wooseok is losing.

*

“Why don’t you tell him?” Hangyul asks. They’re in his room, a vape pen each, blowing smoke into the air. Taylor Swift is playing softly in the background and it's oddly comforting. Seungyoun imagines being with Wooseok like this sometimes, when he’s running low on self-restraint and lets his mind run loose. 

“I want to,” he says, “every day. I see him and I want to tell him. It’s just that I can’t.”

“You don’t think he likes you back?” Hangyul sounds like he doesn’t think it’s very plausible either.

“No,” Seungyoun tells him.

“Not a single chance?” Hangyul asks, and God, Seungyoun wishes people would stop pitying him.

“No,” Seungyoun laughs wryly, “you know what, I preferred having crushes on straight guys. It hurts less knowing he’s gay and that I’m just not _it_ for him when he’s it for me.”

“I don’t know,” Hangyul shakes his head, “I always thought you guys had like this…special connection. Like at least you, you could tell Wooseok was that kind of, you know, special person for you.”

“He is,” Seungyoun can’t even bring himself to be upset, because loving Wooseok makes him so happy, “it’s like when we’re together, just the two of us, I feel like he’s the only one for me. I feel like there’s not much more to life than this. I feel like I’m on top of the world, or in the climax of a coming of age movie, you know?”

“Kind of…” Hangyul rubs his arm. “I know what you mean.”

“It’s just kind of…you know, ironic. That it’s one-sided, I mean. Like, God gives me the one person I always want and he’s just a touch away, but he’s never going to be _mine_, like how I want him to be.”

“Are you like,” Hangyul tries to find the right words but fails, “you know?”

“I’m in love with him,” Seungyoun confesses and it’s terrifying to say out loud. He’s used to keeping the thought in the back of his mind, but now it feels so real, “if that’s what you’re hitting at.”

“How long?”

“I met him two years ago,” Hangyul nods, “so that would be one year and eleven months.”

“Oh, shit,” Hangyul rubs his face, clearly in shock, “oh shit.”

“Yeah.”

“God, I knew it was like… bad, but bro — you’re fucked.”

Seungyoun laughs, because Hangyul sounds so candid and it’s somehow hilarious, “I know, right?”

“Two years out of your life, man, like, I thought it was a few months or something…”

“I wouldn’t call it that way,” Seungyoun sighs, “like, I know it sucks to be in love with someone to this extent and it being unrequited, but I wouldn’t want to not love him if that makes sense.”

“Even though he doesn’t love you back.”

Seungyoun nods, “yeah. I’m not sure about a lot of things, especially when it comes to myself. Hell, if you asked me to name five personality traits I have, I wouldn’t be able to tell you. But I know I love him. It solidifies me as, dunno, an actual person, it defines me. It makes life worth living.”

His voice cracks at that part and he can’t stop the tears from falling. He’s been crying so much lately. Hangyul puts their vape pens away and pulls him into a hug, letting Seungyoun wet his shoulder. In a better world, Hangyul doesn’t harbour unspecified feelings for Yohan and Seungyoun doesn’t centre his entire universe around Wooseok and they are together. But much as Seungyoun loves Hangyul and he thinks Hangyul loves him, too, they aren’t in love and it’s no use playing pretend. So Seungyoun hides his face in the crook of his best friend’s neck and lets himself sob. He’s an ugly crier, but at least Wooseok isn’t around to see that. 

*

Sometimes, Seungyoun misses him so much he cries. Wooseok isn’t gone, isn’t out of his life, but Seungyoun wants to see him, hold him so badly — enough to have him crying on the toilet seat, face buried in his hands. Then he cries in the shower. Then he cries himself to sleep.

He knows Wooseok would think he’s unworthy of the tears Seungyoun sheds over him so eagerly, doesn’t believe them to be real. Maybe, Seungyoun thinks, maybe if he cried enough to dehydrate completely and collapse, Wooseok would finally get the message that he’s everything to him. 

*

He doesn’t think he’ll be falling out of love with Wooseok any time soon. 

Seungyoun likes people, more so finds them attractive. He’s even had a boyfriend a few months back, but the guy broke up with him. Seungyoun can’t blame him — he’s an asshole to people that he doesn’t feel like devoting his life to. That’s what separates the little crushes, the people he tries to replace the hole in his heart with, from Wooseok. 

He doesn’t want to move on himself, maybe that’s what’s hindering him. Because loving Wooseok is beautiful, it makes him feel complete, like it’s the one thing he was born to do. The logical side of him tries to reason that it’s his religious guilt trying to force this ascetic agenda to replace the lack of God in his life. The emotional side chucks his brain out of the window and continues to love Wooseok with every fibre of his being.

Seungyoun doesn’t like thinking about the far future, because he doesn’t think he wants one in the first place. But he knows he won’t stop loving Wooseok. Sometimes, he thinks about a future with him, where they are together, where they live together in a small apartment, because they can’t afford anything more, where Seungyoun doesn’t have to stop himself when he wants to kiss Wooseok, where they are happy. And maybe they’ll reach forty together and Seungyoun becomes everything his twisted sense of morality stands against at the present, but he’ll never stop loving Wooseok. 

That’s how you know he’s got it bad — he still doesn’t want to grow old, but if it’s with Wooseok, he would do it without a question. 

*

After the last match of the year, Wooseok is quiet. He gets like that sometimes and Seungyoun wishes he would tell him what’s wrong, that he would at least trust him with what he’s going through instead of bottling up everything. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” He asks, walking Wooseok to the bus stop.

“No,” Wooseok cuts him off curtly. 

“Okay,” Seungyoun doesn’t want to pressure him. It terrifies him to lose the little trust Wooseok has harboured for him, because it’s fragile, precarious in nature. 

Wooseok’s bus leaves and Seungyoun wishes he could handle it better. He wishes he could be the kind of person Wooseok is for him. 

*

It’s a twisted thought, but sometimes Seungyoun wonders if people assume they’re together. When he’s got his arm linked with Wooseok on the street, grinning at him from ear to ear, hanging on to every word he says — anyone can tell he’s a goner. He entertains the thought that someone might have thought of them as a couple, with how blatant he can be about his feelings. Maybe they presume Wooseok is shier about showing them.

It’s too bad they don’t exist and the notion of them being together can only live inside a stranger’s head. 

That’s enough for Seungyoun, for the time being. It’s a breath of fresh air that will keep him going for days. He’s patient with Wooseok. Wounded, but patient. 

*

“Will you ever tell him about it?” Hangyul asks. 

“Probably not,” Seungyoun blows smoke into his face, chuckling as Hangyul coughs. “Maybe if we’re both married to someone else and I’m just like ‘Wow, had the biggest crush on you in high school isn’t that funny!’ Or if we grow apart and I have nothing to lose anymore.”

“He wouldn’t leave you,” Hangyul tells him like he means it, “if you told him now, he’d still be your friend.”

“It would change everything,” Seungyoun feels like crying again, “he’s my friend, beyond anything else. I don’t want to put him in a situation where he knows how I feel and he feels guilty.”

“I wish you would,” Hangyul sighs. “You deserve to get it off your chest. He deserves to know. This entire situation is just so…”

When he doesn’t finish, Seungyoun speaks up, “if I ever get in an accident or something and clock out of like, life, you have my permission to tell him.”

“That you love him?”

“That I was in love with him. That I thought he was beautiful. That I couldn’t see a world above him. You’re right, he deserves to know he’s worth that kind of thing,” that’s when he starts crying again.

“Okay,” Hangyul says with a heavy heart, “I promise to let him know.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank u for reading
> 
> [buy me a ko-fi](http://ko-fi.com/joonswig) // talk to me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/midzyonce)


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